


Just Relax

by hb129310



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: College, Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 08:26:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5409899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hb129310/pseuds/hb129310
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being roommates with your boyfriend in college can be interesting at times. And for Fiddleford McGucket, this has led to more than a few sleepless nights. But then, when your partner is a workaholic with no sense of a sleep schedule, you use any methods you can to get that idiot to bed. And luckily, for Fiddleford, he found the perfect solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Relax

**Author's Note:**

> Um, this is my first time posting any of my writings, so, I don't really know. I just like the idea of these two together, even if it's like really AU compared to the show. They're also probably OOC at a lot of points, but meh. Anyway, hope those Fiddauthor shippers like this!

“Foooord~”

“Carry the two here, multiply that by 10…..”

“Stanfoooord…”

“Oh, that doesn’t make sense! Where did that 8 come from?! Ugh! This is gonna set me back for another hour!”

“Oh for the love of--- Stanford!”

The bespectacled brunette started at the exclamation from behind him. Stanford Pines turned to see his roommate/boyfriend, Fiddleford McGucket, standing there, arms crossed. He wore an expression of mild impatience. The younger man though, didn’t seem to register the expression.

“Oh, Fiddleford,” he began, as if he hadn’t heard the other’s multiple attempts to call him. A sudden yawn interrupted him though, and it was here that he took the opportunity to stretch his arms a bit. “Didn’t, ah, didn’t see you there,” he explained, stifling another yawn. Glancing back at his thesis wearily, he winced. “Time?”

The blonde couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Oh, only half past midnight,” he snarked. Really, he’d expected this. He had picked a genius for a boyfriend, but the older student hadn’t thought he’d chosen a workaholic as well. And those two traits combined made for a few stressful nights.

The brunette, hearing this, winced once again, this blunt answer seeing to weigh on him even more than his paper was. “Ah, right. Sorry about that,” he apologized, knowing he was probably keeping Fidds up with his grumbling. “Yeah, I was just finishing my,” another yawn escaped, “m-my thesis.” The younger man rubbed his blurry eyes, as if this would make the bags under them disappear. But he had to get through this. So he shot a (hopefully) convincing smile Fiddleford’s way. “Shouldn’t take much longer.” He hoped his boyfriend would believe that explanation a second time.  
Fiddleford swore, his eyes were going to roll to the back of his head one day. “Uh huh, that’s what ya’ said two hours ago.” Did Ford really think he would buy that, even once?!

The other couldn’t help the pout that escaped at being caught in a lie. But he needed to get this done. Fiddleford should understand. So, being the ever mature one in their relationship, he turned right back around and hunched over his desk, grumbling under his breath. So what if Fiddleford didn’t approve of his study methods. The important thing was-

“Ford, come on now,” his boyfriend’s voiced floated over to him, tone weary. He wouldn’t turn around though. If he did, Fiddleford would use his devilish southern charms to lure him to bed. That’s how it always went. Well not today! No, today he would win!

The blonde sighed once again, sensing Ford’s stubbornness coming through. Well, two could play at that game….He circled over, and stood on the left side of Ford’s desk. For good measure, he leaned close, and placed a hand over the offending distraction. He paused, gauging the brunette’s reaction. The other stopped scrawling, but remained looking forward, steely eyed. Fiddleford’s gaze softened, weather this was genuine, or part of his ploy, even he couldn’t say. “Ya’ve been up late for six days straight workin’ on that crazy thing!” And he wasn’t just exaggerating either. Stanford had been pulling near all-nighters for a week, solely for the purpose of this darn project. And maybe he was being a tad selfish in the sense that the reason he was trying to talk Ford out of it for the fourth night in a row was so he could finally join him in bed. Going without his boyfriend’s embrace was already driving him batty.

Stanford, despite his best attempts, understood Fidd’s argument. He knew the other had a point, and the less sleep he was getting, the less the paper was making sense. Still, he told himself he wouldn’t give up, and he was sticking to that. So, even though it might waver his determination, the brunette shifted his gaze back to Fiddleford.  
“Look,” he reasoned, “I just need to,” another yawn sounded, “need to add a few more things to make it-.”

“No,” Fiddleford’s other hand went to grip his shoulder, weary expression hardening. “What you need to do is relax for once in your life.”

Stanford glared, impatience starting to kick in. He crossed his arms, trying to look more confident than he felt. “I can do that tomorrow when I’m finished!” To emphasize this he took a slurp of the coffee sitting on his desk. 

Fiddleford continued to glare, not approving of the bull headed attitude Ford was exhibiting. He didn’t say anything in response to Ford’s comment, only stared the other down.  
After a few more minutes, the brunette shrank under what he had come to term, “Fidd’s mother hen glare.” “I promise,” he finally relented, “Just another hour or so.” And maybe that’s all he needed. If he conquered this one particular equation he’d been stuck on, he’d be able to-

“No!” The outburst must have been enough to gain his boyfriend’s attention, because he glanced back up at Fiddleford in surprise. “Ford, anymore of this crazy project and you’ll barely be able ta’ function tomorrow.” And it was true, because Fiddleford had seen it happen before. They did not need a repeat of “The Great Beaker Incident of Hall H.” He was pretty sure freshmen were still cleaning elephant toothpaste out of their ears.

Ford knew his boyfriend had a small point (ok, a huge point), but he was so close to finishing. Besides, if he stopped now, he would lose his train of thought, and then his work would be set back even longer. So, without a word, he steeled his gaze again, and focused back onto the pages on the desk, working around Fiddleford’s hand.

The older sophomore sighed once again. Of course the stern parental approach hadn’t worked. It never did. He relented for a moment and backed away, hoping to take stock of the situation. Fiddleford ran a hand through his sandy blonde locks, feeling his exasperation grow. He’d been through this routine with Stanford countless times before, and he racked his brain to try to identify what approach had worked best. He’d already tried appealing to Ford’s health and sleep cycle (HA!), and he’d tried the stern talking to (akin to scolding a grumpy toddler), but in the past there had been one other method. But what had it bee-

A lightbulb went off in his head, and he felt a sly smile work its way onto his face. Of course. Why hadn’t he remembered sooner? He turned to see poor unassuming Ford was back to poring over his calculations. As silently as he could, Fiddleford slinked back to stand directly behind his boyfriend. Just a bit closer, and….

“Ford? Darlin’~?” The reaction was immediate. The brunette froze, not only because of the tone, but the fact that Fiddleford’s hands were now positioned firmly on his shoulders. 

“Oh no,” the younger sophomore thought, because he knew exactly what this was. And unfortunately, before he could protest, the blonde had begun massaging his shoulders, with a practiced grace that practically left him melting on the spot. 

“How about y’all take a little break, hmmm?” 

Curse Fiddleford and that silver-tongued southern drawl of his! Even though he couldn’t see, Ford knew that his boyfriend was smirking. And what’s worse, he couldn’t stop the deep blush from spreading on his cheeks, as his glare softened at the contact. He had to get out of this! All he had to do was let Fiddleford know this just wasn’t the time.

“I-I-.” Smooth Ford, real smooth.

Fiddleford, meanwhile, looked like the cat who’d gotten the canary. He’d almost forgotten this little trick, but oh, the results it brought! Whenever Ford was a bit too insufferable for his own good, all Fiddleford had to do was work his magic touch, spout a few honeyed words, and Stanford was putty in his hands. Unethical? Perhaps a tad bit, and maybe a touch on the manipulative side. But in this case, the blonde was only thinking of his boyfriend’s safety (and perhaps anyone in his direct path). Fiddleford hummed, adopting a faux sympathetic pout at the brunette’s plight. “Oh, I know, I know,” he cooed, “that project’s real important….” Trailing off, he began digging a bit deeper, making sure to hit every sensitive spot Stanford had. “Still….wouldn’t it be nice to take a teensy little break?” The blonde leaned forward, resting his chin on the top of Ford’s head for good measure. Now his boyfriend was as good as trapped, and it was here that Fiddleford allowed a sneaky, triumphant smirk, not that the other could see.

Meanwhile, Stanford’s hopes of getting anything else done were quickly dwindling with each soothing rub of his shoulders, and even though he hated it, the only feasible escape left was appealing to Fiddleford’s mercy….HA! Still, he squirmed a bit, trying to break free, in vain of course. “Well, I, er, I don’t know Fiddleford, I-."

“Pleeeease Ford? For me~?”

The brunette clammed up once more as the hands on his shoulders fell away, only to feel arms drape themselves over his front form behind. He could also now feel Fiddleford’s breath ghosting around his ear. Unable to stop the shiver that went down his spine, Stanford’s eyebrows furrowed in anxiety. “F-Fiddleford, I-I can’t, I-.” And then he felt it. Those careful, warm lips starting to plant soft kisses along his neck, at times lingering deliberately along his collarbone. The blush that was already dusting his cheeks deepened. There was no doubt in Ford’s mind now. They were playing a very dangerous game, and he was losing. It only got worse when his devious boyfriend started talking again.

“Ford~, darlin’, sugar, sweet potato…” Fiddleford smirked at the way the brunette’s shoulders loosened. Those sweet little nicknames always did the trick. His boyfriend was such a teenage girl. Still rubbing the other’s shoulders, he leaned in, lowering his voice considerably. “Take a little break, hmmm~?”

Stanford was practically at a loss for words at this point, and was amazed that he could still form sentences. “I-I-Fidds I can’t stop now! I’ll-.” But he was silenced yet again, those damned lips working their way up his neck. He swore he blacked out when the blonde hit a particular spot just below his ear. Ford cursed that spot. It had always been a weak point, ever since he was a kid and Stanley would flick it to gain the upper hand in fights. And unfortunately, his boyfriend had also found it, ever since, using it for situations such as this. It was both a blessing and a curse.

Fiddleford grinned, seeing the reaction, and the dwindling resistance. He had to thank whatever higher power that was up there for giving him such a pliable partner. It certainly made for some interesting dates. And though the blonde would never admit it to anyone, let alone Ford, he was more than eager to be the dominant one in their relationship. It was a change of pace to his everyday life, and he had been surprised and relieved to find the brunette was more than willing to accommodate him.

So the taller man was more than happy to enjoy the power he now held over the situation. “You say somethin’ sugar?” Of course he’d heard the desperate stuttering, but maybe he was having a bit too much fun with this.

Ford tried to muster up a glare, but all that came up as yet another desperate stutter. He had to stop this, before the other man got to him “I-I was just saying th-th-that-.”

“Mm, that y’all need to take a little break and get some shut eye,” Fiddleford interrupted smoothly, going back to massaging his shoulders. “Why, I quite agree~.”

Stanford groaned, half in frustration, half in pleasure, still trying to squirm away. “Nnng, Fiddleford-I-.”

The blonde smiled gently, leaning in again, still having a firm grip on Ford’s shoulders. “Sssh,” he crooned in the smoothest tone he could muster. “Relax….Why not just let that little thesis sit for the night, hm? Ain’t goin’ nowhere after all…..”

At this point, it wasn’t so much a battle of wits as much as a battle of survival for Stanford. With every dig into his shoulders, and whisper in his ear, the brunette was slipping more and more into Fiddleford’s control. Still, the stubbornness persisted, and the only resistance he could give was, “Nnng,” and a gasp, when his boyfriend hit a particular knot in his shoulder blades. 

Fiddleford had to admit, Ford was mighty adorable when he tried to act as if this wasn’t getting to him. He smirked. It only made it more fun to break down those walls. “Nnng? You say somethin’ darlin’~?”

All that escaped this time was a halfhearted whine. Those damned nicknames! Why did he have to be such a sucker for romance?!

Fiddleford grinned, feeling victory was just a step away. Donning a fake pout, he smoothed Ford’s shoulders, not quite a massage, but enough to keep him still. “Oh, poor thing….,” he cooed in a sugary sweet tone, “You’re so plum tuckered out ya’ll can barely talk….” The blonde man then leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. “How ‘bout this, hm? If ya’ come and join me in bed, where ya’ belong, then tomorrow, you and I can…,” he began, before deliberately trailing off.

Stanford raised an eyebrow at the abrupt end to his boyfriend’s statement. Before he could question it though, Fiddleford leaned in as close as possible. The blush on the brunette’s face practically spread to his whole body as the older man began whispering what exactly their activities would include tomorrow. And right now, in his sleep deprived lust filled state, it sounded very appealing. The shorter man felt Fiddleford stand back up, though one hand still lingered on his shoulder. He just couldn’t take it anymore. Almost instinctively, he turned around to face an extremely smug looking boyfriend. Ford’s eyes widened. “R-really?” He cursed the hopefulness in his tone. As if this wasn’t humiliating enough.

Fiddleford on the other hand was having the time of his life. He’d known he had Ford’s number the moment he’d started spouting off those cutesy little pet names. And with that little head turn just now, it was all the confirmation Fiddleford needed to let him know he’d won. His smirk turned into an innocent smile, imagining a halo appearing atop his head. “Mmmhmm,” he confirmed with a nod.

Ford was practically eating out of the palm of his hand now. This promise was just the tipping point to set the other over the edge. Now just to explain to Fiddleford that he accepted. “I-I,” was all he managed, before instinctively leaning forward for the kiss he hadn’t known he’d been craving. But unfortunately, it looked like his boyfriend had other plans, as with a mischievous smirk, the blonde skirted just out of Ford’s reach. The taller man continued skipping away, until he was in the doorway of his (or rather, their) bedroom.

Fiddleford wagged a finger back and ford reproachfully. “Ah ah ah,” he scolded playfully. “Can’t have any ah that until you and I get some shut eye…” The playful look soon shifted to a sly grin as the blonde crooked that same finger in a come hither motion. “Come on now Stanford,” he lured in a cloyingly sweet tone, “just join me, and tomorrow, we can do anything your little heart desires…”

Ford couldn’t help the blush on his face from growing at that implication. “A-anything,” he asked, and he was sure that he was drooling. 

The taller sophomore nodded, smile turning almost fond. “Absolutely darlin’,” he responded, taking care to add that extra tint to his accent that Ford loved so much. “Just come to bed, hm?”

Maybe it was the sleep deprivation finally kicking in, or maybe it was the fact that he was an absolute sucker for Fiddleford’s theatrics and promises. Either way, Ford found himself standing up from his desk, thesis still sitting there merely an afterthought. “O-okay.” And just like that, he started over to his boyfriend, almost as if he was in a trance, which to be honest, he probably was.

“Ah, compromise at last,” the blonde thought, as Ford made his way over. He felt an ounce of pride at how fast they were progressing. Usually it took twice as long to get the brunette away from his work. As he reached a hand out, his smile turned warm as familiar six fingers clasped around it. The taller man looked up to lock his blue eyes onto Ford’s brown ones, and he was pleased to see that the other sophomore was wearing a tired but equally warm smile. “There ya’ go. Good boy.” Squeezing the other’s hand reassuringly, he turned, and started leading Ford into the bedroom. “Just follow me….”

The brunette felt his heart skip a beat as he was led across the threshold of the bedroom. For Stanford, no matter how many times the two went to bed together, it always felt like the first time. And that bed looked so soft, so warm, so inviting. After so many countless nights sleeping on the couch, he felt like the bed was calling his name. Or maybe that was just Fiddleford.  
The blonde smiled when he saw Ford eyeing the bed. Letting go of this hand, Fiddleford moved it to lay on the shorter man’s back. With little to not resistance, he led his boyfriend over, and sat him down on the soft pillowy surface. “Now then,” he cooed, “why don’t y’all just go on and lay down?”

Ford smiled back. “O-,” he stopped, yawning once again, “Okay.” And so, finally, pulling the covers away, he layed down, head resting on the pillow. He let a content sigh escape as he couldn’t help but snuggle into place.

“There now,” the blonde continued, and seeing an opportunity, grabbed the blankets. With a careful grace that he’d picked up over the years with his younger sister, he laid the blankets gently over his boyfriend’s form, taking care to tuck in the edges and corners. “Nice and snug.” Indeed, there would be no trips back to Ford’s desk tonight.

The shorter sophomore directed a grateful look Fiddleford’s way. “Thanks,” he murmured. Subconsciously, his eyelids stated fluttering, a wave of relaxation starting to flood over him.  
Fiddleford felt his hear soar at the, well if he was being honest, utterly adorable look on Ford’s face. He went to ruffle the brunette’s shaggy hair affectionately. “Aw, don’t mention it darlin’,” he murmured. And feeling a bit exhausted himself (it was one in the morning) the blonde walked over to the other side, and climbed into bed, pulling the covers back just enough so he could squeeze in next to his boyfriend. Since the brunette was facing away from him, Fiddleford slipped his arms around the other’s waist. “You just get a good night’s rest,” he instructed gently. Leaning in, he rested his head against Ford’s shoulders. “And tomorrow,” he continued in a lower, somewhat silkier tone, “I’m yours….We can do whatever you want….”

By now, Stanford was already half asleep, however he could still hear the taller sophomore’s words. As much as he’d deny it when Fiddleford teased him, the brunette really did enjoy the touchy-feely cuddling they got up to. A dopey smile formed on his lips when he felt those long arms envelope him, and his eyes shut. “Hm, whatever I want.” That sounded nice. And all he had to do was, was….  
Fiddleford chuckled at the sleepy tone Ford used, knowing it was only a matter of minutes before he was off in dream land. “That’s right,” he responded, “For now, just rest.”  
Ford hummed, only hearing maybe half of that. “Okay,” was his automatic answer in that same, soft sleepy murmur. “Night Fidds.”

Not even a second later, the blonde sophomore heard soft snoring coming from the brunette. Another chuckle sounded as he leaned in closer. Fiddleford laid a soft kiss on his boyfriend’s shoulder blade. “Nighty night Ford.” And finally, he closed his eyes as well, ignoring the fact that they both had a full day of class tomorrow. “Sweet dreams…”

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I really don't know if this was any good or not. It took me a long time to write to be honest. But I hope the shippers enjoy it anyway! Thanks for reading!


End file.
